


Working Man

by LilyCissa



Series: Sterek "Meet Ugly" [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyCissa/pseuds/LilyCissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is working at the department store when the well-known Derek Hale comes back to buy some shirts... and leave a thousand unfolded behind him. But not today, oh no, not today !</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Man

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Tokiosunset.tumblr, in the "Meet Ugly" post. That was the trigger sentence:
> 
> “I work at a department store and if you take out and unfold a shirt and then leave it one more time I’m going to stuff it down your throat” AU
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy it !

Stiles Stilinski was a regular young man most of the time. A little bit distracted indeed, but a good employee nonetheless. Because yes, Stiles was a teenager in need. His father wouldn't pay for a new carburetor, but he needed one for his car. She was immobilized by a breakdown and Stiles couldn't stand taking the bus to the high school. If he wanted Roscoe to be on the road again, he had to work for it. That's how he ended here, in this temple of consumerism, the sanctuary of capitalism: the department store.

He found a job which consisted mostly in putting clothes from the delivery boxes to the shelves, ' _mostly_ ' being the key word. Whenever this pain in the ass of a client went, Stiles found in his tracks a ton of unfolded shirts and randomly scattered pants. As he was checking the new arrivals delivery, Stiles spotted him in the store.

 _Oh shit,_  he thought,  _if this fucker unfolds another damn shirt only to leave it behind, I swear to old Gods and new, I'm gonna shove it down his throat until he chokes to death._

This 'fucker' was known to be Derek Hale, a handsome tall man with short black hair and hazel eyes ready to melt the heart of anyone attracted by men. And even anyone  _not_  attracted by men. Stiles had lived long enough to know he was into girls – hell, he had even slept half naked with his best friend Scott more than once without even thinking about sex – yet that 'fucker' always managed to give him unholy thoughts. Pretty damn unholy, like murder.

"What can I do for you?" he asked Derek as he was browsing through t-shirts.

"Hmm nothing, thank you. I'm just looking."

"Really? 'Cuz you seem to be in need of counsel, by looking at how many shirts you unfold each time you enter this damn place."

"I beg your pardon?"

Derek was taken aback. Good.

"I've been here long enough to know that every time you come here, I'm on for like two hours of additional work, cleaning up the mess you left. Unpaid additional work, of course."

"Excuse me, young man…"  _Oh damn, not that intonation!_  "…but isn't it your job to re-fold what consumers unfold?"

"Well excuse me, old man…" _Suck it._  "…but not every client comes and turns the store upside down until it looks like an out-of-the-hell chaos. You're worse than a hurricane!"

"That's what she said. Listen, I'm here buying shit and giving you a job to do. Just do it and shut up."

Stiles couldn't believe what he was hearing. That was outrageous. Truly outrageous.

"Are you kidding me?" he said. "Do you think your money can buy my respect?"

"I don't fucking care about your respect, I just want to buy a shirt."

"Then you'd better think about the ones you unfold because I'm charging you every last one of them!"

"You can't!"

"Wanna test me?"  _Come and get me, I'm not afraid of the big bad wolf,_  he thought. That was a pretty childish thought, but it comforted him and gave him confidence. This man had gone too far too often. Now he's got to pay for it.

"I want to see your manager." Derek commanded.

"Too bad she's not here today. And don't worry, she agrees with me."

That was a bald-faced lie, but Derek couldn't have a clue, could he?

"So what are you gonna do, huh?" the man asked.

"I'm following you through the shop." Stiles replied. "If you need something, I'll fetch it for you, but no messing around and randomly leaving clothes in unlikely places."

"Unlikely places?"

"I've found boxers shorts in the ladies section last time you went. Seems like L is getting too tight for your big fat ass."

Ok, that was rude and unnecessary, but at least it made Derek blush. Hell, he was even more handsome now…

"So to prevent that, you're gonna stalk me?"

"Yep."

"And hand me whatever I want?"

"In the store… Yes. And if we got the right size."

Derek began to smile, putting Stiles very ill at ease. What was on his sick mind?

"Great." He said. "I got my own private shopper. Can you tell me how working more will help you work less?"

Stiles opened his mouth but he couldn't come with a satisfying reply. Perplexed, he remained mute. As for Derek, he looked quite pleased.

"Can you search for a dark t-shirt with a cool print and a colored shirt that won't look totally ridiculous on me? I also need new jeans. Black, if possible."

"Yep." But Stiles didn't move. "I can."

Derek lost his smile. "Don't dare you fool me around." He looked so threatening that Stiles backpedaled in utter panic. He noted down somewhere in his mind:  _no jokes with Derek, that man just doesn't seem to have a sense of humor._

"Ok ok, I'll look for it... Just wait by the dressing rooms."

Derek nodded and let him do his job, finding an empty room. Five minutes later, Stiles showed up with three t-shirts, five shirts and two pairs of jeans matching the exigencies of his client.

"Try those. I figured out your size, and usually I don't make mistakes." He looked apologetic. "Oh, and sorry about the big fat ass thing."

Derek frowned before smiling lightly. "No need. I actually gained weight lately, even if it's not as fat as you assumed it was."

Coming to think of it, Derek was all muscles and jawbones. So manly Stiles could almost smell the testosterone floating around him. He was so concentrated on it, he forgot to move out of the way.

"You're planning on staying for the show?" Derek asked him.

"Oh…" Stiles muttered as he closed the curtain. He heard a buckle, and jeans dropping on the floor. Behind this thin piece of clothe was a gorgeous naked man, muscles rolling under his skin… The thought made Stiles blush. He nearly jumped when the curtain re-opened; he didn't hear Derek getting dressed again.

"What do you think?"

"Well…"  _Those jeans surely underline what a beautiful ass you have..._  "It's ok. I guess."

"Just ok? Because your cheeks are bright red. Am I so attractive that I'm giving you a hard time concentrating?"

"Oh, believe me, I'm concentrated enough."  _Just not on my job, that's all…_ "I'm clearly too concentrated, in fact."

"Do you find me attractive?"

It was a simple question, and Derek asked it the same way he'd ask about the weather. This time, it's Stiles who was taken aback.

"Er… Hmm… Yeah, I guess. But I'm not into guys, sorry."

"Neither am I." Derek's gaze swept Stiles' body. "But there are exceptions."

The teenager blushed even more, if that was even possible.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Derek took a step forward and passed behind Stiles. Without even realizing it, the young man was into the room, stuck between Derek and the mirror. His special client closed the curtain and put his hands on his shoulders. Stiles knew he should say something, but that was so pleasant he couldn't force himself to protest. He still tried to put some distance.

"I said I wasn't…"

"I heard you. I know how it feels. You're an average boy, looking for girls' attention, and then come this absolutely perfect guy, and you're wondering 'who cares about girls when you can get this boy's attention?'. It's my story too."

Stiles had a hard time swallowing his saliva, and stood still while Derek was gently whispering into his hear. He could feel his breath on his neck, and his hands on his hips. And suddenly, nothing.

Derek took a step back, looking genuinely disappointed.

"You're a terrible seller though."

"You're an even more terrible client."

Seemed like sarcasm brought him back to reality. Stiles opened the curtain, escaping the scene as soon as possible.

"Didn't you say you would bring me anything I wanted? This shirt is ok, but I'll need another size for that t-shirt. And those jeans…"

"…are perfect. Believe me."

Stiles cheeks were still red with embarrassment and hidden desire. After another five minutes of browsing into the hundreds of clothes, he came back with more t-shirts.

"So… You're bisexual?"

"I thought you wouldn't be so stupid as to bring that back. If you wanted me, you should have taken me when you had the chance."

"Ok, you're disappointed, I get it."

Now the two of them were childishly sulking. Great. Derek changed clothes in silence, and turned to Stiles but he wouldn't even look at him.

"You're right, I'm bi." He conceded. "Happy now?"

"Not really… But the outfit is ok."

"I'll take it. That, this one and that one."

"Right." Stiles took the clothes Derek picked up, arranging them on his arm.

"I'll also take your phone number, if that's part of the prestation."

Were his ears completely functional?

"Beg your pardon?"

Derek made a very serious face and asked again:

"I'm deeply interested in having your phone number. And a few other things from you."

Stiles' jaw dropped, and before he realized what he was doing, he walked to Derek and kissed him. Putting aside the clothes, he just kissed him. What in the world did he think he was doing? But the impulse was too strong, and Derek too damn hot. And the curtain closed again, hiding them and their bad bad behavior.


End file.
